Finding Hope
by insertcleverandwittytitlehere
Summary: Draco Malfoy is having a bit of a crisis. Half the time he couldn't believe his dumb luck; this unbelievable woman had chosen him after all the things he'd seen and done. There was a permanent mark branded on his skin to prove how unworthy he was, for Merlin's sake! And yet. Here she was.


**This is the Chudley Cannons Captain checking in for Round 8 of Season 7 of the QLFC.**

**Prompt: **Ten of Cups-Upright: Inner happiness, fulfillment, dreams coming true; Reversed: Lack of center, lost inner voice, broken family, domestic disharmony.

I have chosen Upright.

**Word count (before A/N):** 2,123 words

**I am not JK. I merely play puppet master once in a while.**

* * *

"You look like a million Galleons and then some, sir! Er… but you are looking a touch green around the gills."

Draco straightened in front of his talking mirror, shaking his head slightly to clear his mind.

"Mmm. That didn't help much. Maybe try sitting down and breathing?" the mirror said. Instead, Draco stepped in closer, his eyes blinking as his face came into focus.

He was clad in the finest dress robes he had ever owned, a rich green color. Cashmere. Fitted precisely to his lean figure. His shoes were a shiny black, so buffed and polished, his face reflected up at him. He had a silk bow tie perfectly knotted around his neck and silver buttons raced down his chest in a perfect row. The mirror was definitely right; he _did _look good.

And he also looked sick.

Draco touched his face. It was paler than usual, and a slick film of sweat had formed on his skin. He gulped, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. He could see the hints of panic and fear creeping into his grey eyes.

"Merlin," he whimpered. He was petrified.

"Merlin, indeed," the mirror spoke, its anthropomorphic voice filled with something close to exasperation.

"Well, you're not helping," he told it.

"Sorry," it said. "I'm not equipped to provide polite chit-chat. You want to know how you look? I'll tell you with no hesitation."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"See? Now that kind of behavior only makes you look like a child."

He raised an eyebrow. In the mirror, his twin did the same, mimicking his every move and breath. When he was little, Draco used to believe an entire other world existed behind the mirror. Like a parallel universe. He told his father about it once over dinner, but Lucius had only laughed at him.

Afterwards, his mother had slipped into his room and sat down on his bed. She told Draco that he might very well be right. That a whole other world might just exist beyond what he could see, and he should never stop believing. If magic was real, she had smiled down at him, patting his hair, why couldn't other magical things exist too?

The memory calmed Draco. He was older now, wiser and hardened by the real world. The Land of Mirrors-that's what he called it-was nothing but a childhood dream. But there was something about returning to it all these years later that made him believe again, just for a moment.

"There we go, just a little smile. Doesn't completely remove the I'm-about-to-vomit look, but it's a start."

He scowled at the mirror. Then, Draco turned on his heel, his mind already five steps ahead of his feet. Thinking about his childhood had given him something he so rarely had in his adult years: hope.

It was all he needed.

He rushed out the door, and, unfortunately for him, knocked Goyle over in the process. While the bigger man went toppling down, everything that had been clutched in his arms went flying up and across the hall. Little white petals scattered like falling snow. Draco paused for only a moment to see the bits of flower stems still clutched in Goyle's arms, bent at every odd angle.

"Whoopsie daisy!" the mirror called out from behind him. Draco shut the door.

"Sorry, mate." He held out a hand to help hoist Goyle back to his feet.

"S'alright," Goyle said, straightening out his dark purple robes. He discarded the bouquet on a side table, his eyes raking over the fallen petals on the floor.

"Daph won't like this. The one thing she asked for..." He sighed, his eyes turning back to Draco. "Where're you going, anyways?"

Draco cleared his throat. He didn't want to say it out loud.

"A walk."

"Right now?"

"Yep."

"But there's only an hour left till-"

"I'll be back," Draco said, already setting off down the hall. He didn't even pause when Goyle called his name. He had to talk to her. He had to know.

A few moments later he found himself outside the wooden red door he had passed so many times as a child. His hand gripped the ornate brass handle, but then he stopped. He was an idiot. He couldn't just barge in on her like this. Especially today.

His hand dropped to his side, and, once again, panic crept up the length of his back, crawling across his skin like a slug. Several slugs. A whole horde of slimy, oozing slugs that had-

The door opened.

"Eeeep!"

It slammed shut.

"Draco?" a voice asked from inside. "What are you doing outside my door?"

Just as quickly as the slugs had come, they vanished. Astoria had that effect on him.

"Hey," he said lamely. How was he supposed to talk to her like this? "Can I come in?"

"What? No!" she shouted.

A few of the slugs perched on his shoe, debating whether or not to return. Draco kicked the feeling aside, and asked, "Why not?"

"It's bad luck, silly," her muffled voice said. He could see the shadow of her dress beneath the door as she took a step back.

Bad luck. Huh. Draco placed a hand against the door frame and leaned in, making sure only Astoria could hear his voice.

"Story, I've seen you naked. How is _this _bad luck?"

There was a slight pause, then, "It's our wedding day," she half-shouted, half-whispered back. He knew he made her blush; he could hear it in her voice. It made his own heart skip a beat, and he just knew she was going to open that door now.

"Turn around," she instructed.

"What?"

"Turn. Around."

He did as he was commanded, and shortly after he heard the door creak open.

"Okay, now walk backwards."

"Astoria-"

"Trust me."

Draco took a tentative step backwards. Then another. Then another, which placed him inside the room. On his next step, he felt her presence, and then, finally, he stopped, their bodies pressed back to back.

Astoria slipped her hand into his.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hello."

Merlin, she was more adorable in that moment than any other, and all he wanted was to turn around and kiss her deeply, feel her body pressed against his. His perfect match.

But he refrained. Clearly this superstition about seeing each other was important to her. He did, however, peek down at her hand wrapped in his, a white dress delicately hugging her wrist. So she did go for the long sleeves…

"Can I ask why you were standing outside my door?"

He smirked. "You can."

She bumped her back against him playfully, a small giggle escaping her lips. "Well, fine then. Why were you standing outside my door? You don't have cold feet now, do you?"

He gripped her hand tightly. Of course not; he had the opposite of jitters and doubts. He was irrevocably, insanely in love with this woman, and it had hit him, only moments earlier, that this was real. That she was real.

His whole life, Draco knew only horrible, nasty, dreadful things. He'd been brought up in a house of aristocratic criminals, blinded by their hate and masked by their money. _He _was blinded by his hate once, too. Rarely had hope been a part of his vocabulary.

With Astoria, it changed. Half the time he couldn't believe his dumb luck; this unbelievable woman had chosen him after all the things he'd seen and done. There was a permanent mark branded on his skin to prove how unworthy he was.

And yet.

Here she was.

Her back pressed against his.

On their wedding day.

She was probably in the most beautiful wedding gown with the most beautiful smile on her face, too.

"Draco?" her voice cut through his thoughts.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked.

"What?"

"Is this all real? Or did I fall into the Land of Mirrors, where the other Draco gets to have it all and I'm just… rotting away in prison."

"Land of Mirrors? What-"

"I never thought I could be happy again," he whispered. "I'm afraid to say this, but I think I never really was happy. Not till you."

"Draco." Her voice was tender, softer than the cashmere hugging his body. He felt her tug at him, then change her mind. She remained pressed against his back still, holding on to her superstition.

"I'm not saying you're the only thing that makes me happy," he corrected himself. He heard what he had said play back, and he didn't want to put undue pressure on her by announcing she held the very fate of his happiness in her hands. That's not what he meant.

"I mean that, you taught me to be happy. You're the first person in my life who said it's okay to feel joy in spite of everything and I-"

Merlin, were those tears in his eyes? He pushed them aside with his free hand, pausing long enough for Astoria to finally pull him around. The very sight of her nearly sent his head spinning. He was right; she was beyond beautiful, covered in lace and satin and jewels. She looked like a winter sorceress, something out of a fairy tale or a legend, with her raven-colored hair pulled back into an ornate bun and her emerald green eyes staring up into his face.

"I panicked," he choked out.

Astoria's eyebrow arched upward, an amused smirk playing at her lips. His heart skipped a beat.

"You're going to give me heart palpitations," he told her seriously. But Astoria simply pulled him over to the brown couch in the middle of the room.

"Let's try this again," she said, sitting down. Draco took the seat beside her. "You were in your room, thinking about how happy you are, and then you panicked?"

He nodded.

"The Land of Mirrors?"

His gaze dropped to his lap as a wave of embarrassment tickled across his cheeks.

"That's for another day," he said, chancing a glance her way.

Her nose crinkled as she smiled. "Fine," she said. "So you panicked?"

"I really did not think I could ever be this happy. And then I nearly threw up, because I thought, maybe it was all in my head."

"And then…"

"Well, I'm positive I destroyed your sister's bouquet in the process," he said sheepishly.

"That's all?"

So he told her about his fears. Growing up in hate and prejudice. Being trapped and terrified during the war. And how now, at the end of it all, he was getting everything he ever wanted.

"You. A life together," he finished. "Hope."

He watched as her whole body melted into his, her arms slipping around his neck, her lips catching his own.

"Yes," she whispered as he fell backward into the couch, pulling her body against his. His perfect match. "We get to have this. Our life, each other. We get to have so much hope, it'll be pouring out of us one day."

She kissed him tenderly, like a languid promise, and then fervently, like his lips were her only lifeline. Draco pulled her close, finally letting himself feel the happiness she brought him. The happiness he brought her. He wasn't going to panic over this anymore; he was going to embrace it with every fiber of his being.

* * *

"Hmph."

Draco's eyes shot over to the mirror as he closed the door to his dressing room. "What?" he asked it.

"Well, last time we chatted, you looked a right mess. Thought I'd shatter at the very sight!"

He stepped into the mirror's direct line of sight, straightening his bow tie.

"And now," it continued, "you look rather… satiated."

He smirked. Looking at his reflection, he could see his hair was tousled and his clothes were no longer seamlessly crisp and pristine. There was a faint blush on his cheeks that gave him a healthy glow.

"I think you mean happy," he teased. He didn't care. He was positively giddy.

"No," the mirror said. "I mean satiated. You've got a lipstick mark on your neck."

His hand instinctively touched the spot.

"Not to mention, there's a garter hanging out your back pocket."

"How'd you-" he stuffed the lacey fabric into his robes, averting his eyes from the blasted magical object, yet unable to hide the feeling of utter joy it all brought him. Today, this moment, his future. It all seemed so effortlessly real.

"First thing I'm doing after I get married today," he threatened, "is selling you."

To his surprise, the mirror laughed. "It's nice to see you happy, sir."

Draco grinned, all thoughts of embarrassment aside. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it is."


End file.
